Little

She opened her eyes and saw herself lying covered in a pile of branches freshly adorned with spring blossoms. She slowly moved her hand to her eyes, rubbing them and inadvertently shattering the intricate structure that separated her from the world. Rays of the strong May sun filtered through, warming her face. She slowly began to climb out of her hiding place and, freeing herself from her cocoon, spread her small arms like a young butterfly. Her wandering gaze took in the world around her, full of trees, bushes, and singing birds. She slowly turned around, savoring the fascinating sight.

Suddenly, an owl hooted, and the little girl among the trees was overwhelmed by their vastness and her loneliness. All her joy at the new morning was gradually replaced by terror. Her mind slowly replaced images from the previous day, leaving a vast emptiness at the end.

She didn't know where she was. This fact, as it penetrated her consciousness, hooted along with the owl, tearing her face open in a scream that echoed through the empty forest. Tears streamed down, but the deep sobs were answered only by an echo... and the owl, which, unlike the other animals, flew closer, perching on a branch a few meters in front of the girl.

Gradually, her fear faded along with the tears. Numb, she began to walk forward, leaving behind her shelter of last night (or maybe just last night, she couldn't remember). She couldn't recall the sequence of events among the images that flashed before her at regular intervals.

She saw a tall woman calling to her with a gesture of her black-leathered hand. She saw her father's face, running at a run through... her village. Houses burned all around, and somewhere off to the side, a rider with a torch in hand flashed by. The shapes disappeared in a moment in the gray smoke, acrid, choking, deadly.

She awoke standing on a small, animal-trodden path in the middle of the forest. The curious deer stopped mid-stride, carefully observing the human from a few meters away. The girl heard her and slowly turned her head in that direction. They stood there for a moment, tensely awaiting the next event. The deer's distrust was compounded by the stillness of its obstacle – a small, petite figure dressed in gray-green rags, staring with large, blue eyes. An owl, landing on one of the trees, clumsily knocked down a pine cone, which fell loudly and bounced several times off the lower branches. The startled human jumped, startling the deer. After a moment, the bushes quieted, obliterating the animal's escape route. The little girl ran along the barely visible path.

The sun dipped low, heralding the end of the day, as the girl found herself above the swiftly flowing river. She remembered the place, concentrating, recalling familiar faces wading through the stream, holding bundles above their heads. She saw herself carried on one shoulder, shifting anxiously, fearful of the cold water foaming beneath her bare feet. In her memories, the people had traveled upriver, so she followed her memories. The long walk took her to a bend in the river, beyond which a village appeared. Or rather, the ruins of a village.

She remembered her home well, her surroundings. Unfortunately, it bore no resemblance to what met her eyes as she approached. The same feeling of dread from the beginning of the day washed over her. Tears blurred the image of destruction.

Little remained of the village. Where the small pier that had served as a dock stood, charred stumps of a spar that had once supported the structure protruded from the water. The large barn, built with the combined efforts of all its inhabitants, had transformed into a dead spider, frightening with its broken limbs, peering from the ground with the gray remains of what had once been a doorway. The small figure stopped in front of her house, where crows proudly strolled, examining the remains of the once-whitewashed walls and the fresh-thatched roof. The wind occasionally stirred up ash, creating a specter of silver death in the glow of the setting sun, hovering just above the black, ash-covered ground.

Despite the fear gripping her, the girl stepped closer, entering the ashen cloud. She wanted to feel something—anything—to replace the fear approaching with loud footsteps. Instead, a patch of earth glowed in the sunlight, precisely where the corner of her house had once been.

She picked up a ring from the ground. She recognized the symbol of her family, proudly worn by her mother. Holding it in her hand, she heard her mother's voice, the story she'd heard many times about this object, mystically carved in a language unknown to mankind, at the sight of which the wandering priest had cursed them and fled. "He was always with us. Thanks to him, we survived and will continue to survive. Remember him, daughter." The girl placed the ring on her finger and brought her hand to her eyes. The stone adorning the object sparkled brightly in the sun, shimmering with shades of red. She lowered her hand, and the ring slipped away, falling gently into the ruins.

The little girl picked it up again, this time placing it on her thumb, where it had a chance of holding on.

So absorbed in her discovery, she didn't hear the animal. The enormous, old wolf slowly crept up behind the girl and, confident of its prey, stepped onto the ruins of the house. Ready to pounce, it accidentally disturbed a charred beam, which fell to the ground with a crash. At the sound, the little girl turned just as the gray animal began its flight.

The girl's scream split the air. The powerful impact of its body knocked her off her feet. Luckily, the wolf, slightly disoriented by the scream, didn't catch her with its fangs – it bounced the girl's body and landed a few steps away from the building. Lying on her back, the girl began to frantically kick her legs, kicking up clouds of ash. Clumsily moving away from her attacker, she hit the remains of a wall. The wolf lunged at her again. The girl covered her face with her hand and closed her terrified eyes, waiting for another blow. The girl heard the wolf's moan and the dull thud of the body falling from a height. She opened her eyes only to close them even tighter a moment later to avoid the sight of the animal's bloody muzzle. The surprised wolf rose from the ground and, head down, backed away from the girl. After a moment, it turned and, nimbly leaping over the fallen, black beams of the former wall, fled, leaving a thin trail of blood. The silence that followed was broken by the girl's pounding heart. In her terror, she quickly gathered herself and began to run. She left the remnants of her village, venturing once more into the surrounding forests.

"Zigwoa is small!" she slammed her open hand on the table. The candlestick, set in a circular motion by the blow, danced gently on the table, but, maintaining its balance, quickly returned to its normal position as the echoes in the room subsided. "It has to stay.

" "Triwi. We respect your opinion, but she is also an ordinary person," Meergold broke the silence. In a calm voice, he reiterated his arguments. "She's been through a lot, she has a strong body—for a human—but that's not all. Her first attempts with the mixture were disastrous. She could have gotten her hands on the ring by accident, and you know perfectly well that He...

" "Don't poison me, Meergold! You speak to me and others as if you were lecturing them!" "Leave the morals for the young," Triwi interrupted, narrowing her eyes, the pupils of which had changed from a soft green to aquamarine. "If she's to be rejected, it means death for her, because after what she's seen here, you won't let her live.

" "You mean you might as well poison her?" Jeremiah, who had been sitting quietly until now, asked in a gentle voice.

"Yes. That's what I've been talking about for the last fifteen minutes!" The drumming of her fingers on the table filled the room with a gentle echo. She slowly glanced around at those seated at the table, searching for an answer. Her gaze settled on Baedro, whose irritating half-smile had remained on his face for the last few minutes—the hottest ones, by the way.

"Don't look at me with that glare anymore," Baedro replied to the basilisk's gaze. "I see no reason against this course of events. Do what you want with her. At most, we'll stay for a month or two without some of the potions, and if anything goes wrong, it's yours."

"And you'll have to deal with the monster that will surely result. Don't count on the castle dungeon walls, for they still bear the scars of the previous Change," Griiw added, giving Triwi a grimace.

Most nodded slowly. Only Meergold, grimacing, rose from the table and said,

"I will abide by your decision," he stated. "Despite the threat of the power you wish to summon and the damage it will do to our meager supplies.

" "What do you intend to do, Meergold?" Triwi asked, her voice calmer now.

"Prepare the room! You can't handle it alone, brat," he snapped, drawing loud laughter from Baedro and smiles from the others.

Triwi lowered her head in thanks to her mentor, whose understanding had once again surprised and embarrassed her.

"And you'll apologize to me later for those harsh words," Meergold's firm voice echoed off the walls. "Let the circle be broken!" We had finished our discussions for today.

The hall quickly emptied, leaving Triwi staring at the candle flame, the only source of light. She knew the girl possessed a different strength within her. She knew the Ring alone couldn't give her that, but she wasn't so sure about her frail body, which now faced many forced transformations.

"Triwi..." a voice tore her from her thoughts. "The little one must die if something goes wrong. Just as if we weren't supposed to change her, so this is her only chance.

" "I know, Baedra," she replied. "You will prepare the potions for me.

" "I started making them yesterday; the first part will be the day after tomorrow, and the rest in a week or two.

" "But...

" "I knew you would convince old Meergold," he smiled. "He has a weakness for you. It still surprises me that we can feel something..."

With those words, he walked away toward the stairs leading to the surface. Triwi heard only his quick, gentle footsteps as he took a few steps at a time; Then there was another silence, which she had to use to carefully plan the entire process in her head and on paper. A transformation no one had attempted for centuries.

"And what were the results?

" "The little one hasn't grown any fur, she has no wings, and she sleeps touching the bed," Triwi joked. "In short: a dream!

" "Did she finish the second stage?" Meergold didn't succumb to her interlocutor's mood.

"She finished, she finished. Even faster than she should have, which scared me a little.

" "Remember, the Recipe is a thousand years old, and in that time we've learned to make much purer potions," Baedro reassured.

"Does she have the Zigwoa signs?" the Circle elder continued the interview.

"She has all the required ones," Triwi replied, "and also strong telekinesis."

A dark room, dimly lit by a small window, beyond which the already pre-storm weather spoke in shades of gray. Dancing shadows cast by the light of a large candle. Rough-hewn walls, tightly lined with shelves of books and old carpets. A narrowed, even smaller, space. A soaring vault, cut by ceiling beams, on which time and subsequent inhabitants had left a strong mark; the most terrifying remnant was an imprinted chain, very clearly etched in the wood. Completing the chain's imprint was a boarded-up trapdoor, directly beneath the heavy oak table resting within. Despite its castle-like nature, the room was quite warm—especially compared to the lower levels of the turret.

The flames momentarily evened out, halting the shadows. A silence fell, unbroken even by the wind that normally wandered along the ceiling. The stillness that had reigned throughout the room was broken by an owl, which had previously sat motionless on the edge of the table. It turned its head sharply. The effects of her movement were not long in coming. The flame vanished along with part of the candle, which flew violently into the air. The frightened bird flapped its wings, fleeing the falling hot wax. The cat, less fortunate, was stung and woke up screaming from its nap near the table. With only the right agility, the cat was at the window in an instant, disappearing behind it a moment later.

"I've had enough! I don't want to!" the girl shrieked.

The heavy book quickly began to slide away from the little girl across the table, as she watched with considerable satisfaction. A violent slap of her hand pinned the book down.

"Don't throw yourself! Don't damage the books," Triwi said through her teeth. She, too, was getting nervous after spending the whole day in this same place with the little girl. Her studies were proving more difficult than she had expected, a fact Meergold was quick to point out. And now she'd learned to move objects. Move them very quickly.

"I don't want to anymore. Enough!" the girl blurted out. "This is boring!

" "You'll do what I tell you. You'll do it as long as I tell you." Triwi's eyes turned aquamarine.

Seeing her teacher's sudden change, the little girl shrank back in her chair.

"Repeat the test again," Triwi ordered. "Slowly and concentrate!

" "But...

" "Damn!" the scream filled the room with a booming sound. "No 'buts'! You're different and you have to learn to live with it!"

A shiver of fear shot through the girl, tears welled in her eyes, and her hands tightened on her knees.

"Calm down, Deagth. Try bending the wax, imagine it first, and then..."